


Mood

by Lemon_drop_lantana



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Best boy Zack, Blow Jobs, Eventual Smut, Everybody's sane, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, No Nibelheim stuff, Relatively healthy Sefikura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_drop_lantana/pseuds/Lemon_drop_lantana
Summary: Sephiroth begins to feel inexplicable surges of random emotion and is unsure where they are coming from or how to get rid of them.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Comments: 57
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

The first time it happens, _really_ happens, he is addressing several hundred new cadets. Sure he’s felt odd for weeks. Itchy. Uncomfortable. Anxious in a way he outgrew years ago. It is been odd enough that he nearly goes to the labs and demands to know what Hojo has given him this time. But he isn't quite that desperate yet. And then, during his rote, obligatory speech to the new class of meat, he feels the first uncontrollable surge of emotion.

Having not spent a lot of time ruminating on emotions, Sephiroth would be hard pressed to describe it. Maybe admiration or pride? Perhaps hopefulness? Whatever it is, it is not a feeling that is natural for the General, particularly when speaking about Shinra and military service. 

It is, apparently, his most rousing speech ever. The applause is enthusiastic.

Sephiroth feels silly and embarrassed as he left the auditorium, walking past Genesis who has an eyebrow raised.

“Trying something new? I’m very inspired.”

“Shut up.”

* * *

The second time, he is discussing training plans for the third class SOLDIERs with Angeal and his puppy. The discussion tkes the better part of an hour and Zack is practically shaking with unspent energy by the end.

Eventually, he jumps up and begs Angeal to do squats in the corner of Sephiroth office.

“Fine, Zack,” Angeal grants with a sigh.

Sephiroth has been feeling unusually energetic and restless himself and decides to stand up and do squats too.

“Want to compete?” He asks Zack with a rare smile.

Angeal and Zack just look at him with mouths open.

“Are… are you joking?” Zack asks with wide eyes.

Sephiroth realizes how entirely out of character he is acting. “Yes, I’m joking. Unlike puppies, I am able to sit still for an hour." Unfortunately, joking is also out of character for Sephiroth, but neither of them say anything.

* * *

The third time is the worst yet. He is sparring with Genesis for the benefit of some newly promoted second class SOLDIERs. The cadets must have just been released from morning inspection because a whole pack of them are lingering at the windows of the training room, peering in to see their idols fight.

Sephiroth ignores the cadets as easily as he ignores the SOLDIERs, focused entirely on Genesis and his red blade. Genesis doesn't truly pose much of a problem for him, but Sephiroth is just as single-minded and focused sparring as he is doing anything.

The emotion that rises as he parries the redhead’s blade is easily identified. Suddenly, inexplicably, he is horny as fuck. The arousal comes out of nowhere. One second he is idly wondering if there is a polite way to explain that the tiny flourish Genesis performs at the beginning of his riposte costs him at least a tenth of a second. The next, he is imagining pulling that lithe body to his, thrusting into him, yanking the red hair back to bite his neck. 

The image is distracting enough that Sephiroth actually stutters to a stop, so dizzy with lust that Genesis, despite pulling his strength, strikes him in the upper arm with a blow neither of them would have expected to land in a hundred years. The collective gasp of the onlookers is surprisingly loud.

The sensation of metal cutting through muscle and the unfamiliar feeling of blood running down his skin are enough to jerk Sephiroth back to the present. With a growl he comes at Genesis full strength, each blow ringing loudly in the auditorium, his arousal growing more with each dominant movement. He forces the redhead back step by step, until he finally knocks the rapier clear out of his hands and grapples him down to the floor.

Holding in his groan as their hips pess together against the mats, he almost starts rutting against Genesis until he sees the absolutely shocked look in the redhead’s eyes. 

“I said I yield! What the fuck are you doing, Sephiroth? 

The general freezes instantly. _What the fuck_ am _I doing?_ He stands immediately and hauls Genesis back to his feet by the wrist without asking.

“Excellent spar. You drew first blood,” he says loudly enough for the audience to hear, trying to assuage the pride of the man he just threw to the floor and rubbed his crotch against.

With that he turns sharply and strides out of the room, blood dripping from his fingers to the floor. The outline of his rock-hard cock likely obvious to anyone who happens to look past his coat at his leather pants.

It isn't even his most awkward exit that week.

* * *

Now that he is beginning to see the shape of the problem, Sephiroth becomes even more aware of the strange emotions that flood his system. He maps out the patterns systematically over the course of weeks. It isn't always sharp and overwhelming, like the odd lust that overtook him during the spar. 

Sometimes it is as subtle and fleeting as the breeze of someone passing you in the hallway. He once is sitting in a meeting with Lazard and has the oddest feeling like he is missing the presence of someone or something--the way Angeal sometimes describes being homesick for his mother’s cooking. Odder still because there is no person or place or thing for Sephiroth to long for. But before he can even consider the sensation, it slips away like mist.

Sometimes it arrives slow and sneaky, like the scent of someone cooking in another room… unnoticed until it’s suddenly surrounding you and you can think of nothing else. Irritation is a difficult one for him to manage. Part of the reason was that Sephiroth is naturally rather irritable himself… but he has trained himself to set this, and other emotions, aside. Emotional reactions are a weakness on the field and in his work. He has learned in the labs, from Hojo, and by pure experience, that little good comes from indulging emotion. And thus it takes several days for Sephiroth to realize that the irritability that has left him so scathing that even Zack takes to avoiding him in the hallway, is something unnatural. He only figures it out when it departs him as suddenly as a bubble bursting, leaving behind an echo of surprised pleasure, and then a peaceful sort of emptiness. 

The emotions aren't always unpleasant. Overall, they seem to improve somewhat over the months he spends observing them. Occasionally, early in the evening, he feels a gentle wave of happiness and caring, like he is in the presence of a friend. It is the sort of thing that he occasionally allows himself to indulge in with Angeal and Genesis--enjoying the pleasure of their companionship. Only this feeling comes on random and strong, in sweet flashes, when he is all alone, usually preparing his own dinner.

On the whole, however, whatever is happening, it is extremely uncomfortable for the General. _Extremely_ uncomfortable. Trying to control his own natural emotions is second nature to him by this point. He’s been doing it for more than a decade since he went through a very awkward puberty in the labs. His self-control is legendary and well-earned. It is a point of pride.

Trying to maintain his composure through an ongoing series of random and uncontrollable emotion swings is far harder. He feels adrift in the ocean, like a large wave might overturn him at any moment… and leave him entirely lost, trying to figure out if he actually has a logical reason to feel enthused about Zack Fair’s usually irritating presence in his office, or if this, like ninety percent of what he feels lately, is completely random, as if it’s beamed into him from space.

It is beginning to wear him down. And after two months of dealing with the whiplash, Sephiroth is starting to wonder if something is truly wrong with him. Maybe he’s going crazy. There’s absolutely no precedent for what has been done to his body… so why not? Or maybe this is just the first sign of a brain tumor (he spends far too long researching this possibility one night when he’s feeling unusually depressed). Or, what he deems most likely of all, Hojo has given him something _new._ Something just as experimental and untested as everything else and this bizarre reaction is the result.

Sephiroth would rather spend a week cleaning the infantry barrack bathrooms than bring this up with Hojo, but as the situation drags on for months, he resolves that he must do something. He simply can’t operate like this much longer. The embarrassment alone is intolerable.

Genesis came to his apartment and condescendingly offered to take him to bed after their spar, given that Sephiroth was “so desperate he couldn’t control himself in front the seconds.” Sephiroth nearly refused out of pride, but acquiesced when he realized that Genesis was going to bottom without protest. And because the intense lust he had felt that afternoon was _still_ echoing through his body in the evening.

He had become so unusually anxious and alarmed in a board meeting that he actually startled and nearly fell out of his chair when Heidegger boomed his insane laugh from the back of the room. Him. Sephiroth. The god damn Demon of Wutai. It was completely untenable.

Having found no other option, he starts planning. He’s got to have something to tell Hojo and it absolutely cannot be the truth. Weird emotional swings are assuredly the opposite of Hojo’s goals for Sephiroth. If the scientist is the cause, it’s clearly by mistake. An unintended side effect. Hojo has been conditioning Sephiroth to be emotionless basically since birth. In fact, when he dwells on this fact he begins to regret that he has become so accomplished at it. But either way… what will he tell Hojo? _I feel funny? Sometimes I get horny or anxious or sad at inappropriate times?_ He can only imagine what sort of torture will result.

He needs a break and asks Lazard if he can take a minor mission to burn off some stress. Maybe he’s just been trapped in headquarters too long after the end of the war. He gets a simple assignment to kill some mako-raging monsters in North Corel that are causing trouble at the reactor. Sephiroth can only hope he’ll come up with a brilliant excuse for Hojo on his day away. And also that he won’t become so depressed or scared or anxious or horny or _whatever_ that something actually manages to kill him.

* * *

It’s the best mission of Sephiroth’s life. 

As the helicopter flies off over the ocean, it feels like a noisy radio is being turned down in his head. Although Sephiroth hadn’t noticed any unusual emotions that early morning as he climbed in behind his pilot, the difference is immediately apparent.

A static he had somehow never noticed slowly fades away, leaving his mind in such a quiet state it feels like meditation. The waves are utterly still. He floats alone in calm water with no emotions save his own--which, as always, are quite easily muted and controlled. The peace is blissful.

The Turk who flies him out is large, professional, and blessedly quiet. After landing the chopper, he turns back and speaks to Sephiroth for the first time that morning. 

“I’ll return by 5pm tomorrow evening to pick you up,”  
  


“No,” Sephiroth says instantly. “I can tell things are worse than expected. It will take five days.”

“Five… days?” The Turk looks out into the morning sunlight in confusion. The dumpy little settlement looks sleepy and peaceful. The mountains behind it are dull brown and bare. There isn’t a monster in sight.

“Five days,” Sephiroth repeats firmly. He’s happier than ever that he turned down infantry support for this mission. Avoiding any more questions he jumps from the chopper and strides off purposefully towards the foothills.

For three days he kills every living, non-human thing he finds in the mountains--mostly giant lizards and some odd, mutated birds that look more like dragon hatchlings at this point. After day two, there’s really not much left to kill, but that’s not going to stop him. He sleeps on the ground, eats nothing, drinks water from his own meager supply, and enjoys the first vacation of his life. He doesn’t feel a single out-of-place emotion.

On the morning of the fourth day, he can’t put off seeking clean water any longer so he regretfully heads back into town where there is surely a well or a shop. As he comes out of the mountains his PHS buzzes to life with a dazzling array of alarms and sounds. Apparently, headquarters has been trying to reach him. Sephiroth doesn’t give a fuck. He needs longer to enjoy the peace in his head.

An even less pleasant sight greets him in the shantytown. A sleek black, diamond-branded helicopter is sitting on the near side of town. It is certainly here for him.

He pauses at the sight. Mulls over going back to Midgar. Turns right back around. He recalls some stagnant pools of brackish water that probably won’t hurt him.

“Oh no no no no no the _fuck_ you don’t.” He hears scrambling up the rocky hillside behind him. With surprising speed, a lanky, red-headed Turk darts in front of him on the path. Sephiroth knows this one. He talks too much.

“Hold on just a goddamn second, _General,”_ he pants. “We’re here to take you back to Midgar.”

“The mission is not complete,” Sephiroth says calmly, heading around him.

“You’re tellin’ me that in three days you couldn’t kill every living thing on this half of the whole continent?” 

Sephiroth pauses. It’s a good challenge. Of course, he could. It does prickle his pride a bit.

“That’s what I thought, yo. If you wanna vacation, Costa’s much better for it. But whatever floats your boat. I’ll take you there myself next time. Or here. Anywhere. But you’re comin’ back with me today. I got orders from Tseng.”

Sephiroth raises an eyebrow. The head of the Turks is involved now? He definitely doesn’t want the attention of that organization… and it’s possible that his odd behavior could have already attracted Tseng’s attention. But this insolent attitude is insufferable.

“And how do you intend to make me, Turk?” Sephiroth eyes the man’s mag-rod. He couldn’t even get close enough to use it with Sephiroth wielding masamune.

“I’m gonna beg and bargain.”

He almost laughs. “What?”

“Please, pretty please, General. Rude and me have been stuck here since yesterday afternoon waitin’ on you. Have you ever spent the night in a helicopter? And if you march off again we’ll just be stuck here until your majesty deigns to come back. Everybody’s all worked up back at HQ about you disappearin’ off into the mountains like some sorta monk, but if you come back with us _right now,_ Rude and me will both agree that there were some big fucking mako-monsters around here that absolutely needed three full days of your precious attention.”

It’s actually quite a good offer and Sephiroth realizes it quickly. Given the way his phone lit up, the Shinra brass were not quite sedate about his decision to extend the mission by four days. He sighs. Better to return now rather than make it worse. Maybe the Turk can help with the story after all. He’s obviously going to be a better liar than Sephiroth.

“And I’ll suck your dick if ya want.” The redhead says it very quietly but everyone knows how well a first-class SOLDIER can hear.

Sephiroth just rolls his eyes and turns back to the helicopter. The much quieter Turk who dropped him off is already powering up the rotor.

“Is that a yes, General, sir?” The redhead asks, sliding down the rocky slope behind him, sending up a cloud of dust.

“Just shut up.” Sephiroth climbs into the back of the helicopter as the redhead clambers in after him.

“Oh, I’m real quiet with a dick in…” 

His voice stutters off when his partner cuffs him in the side of the head. “Shut up, Reno. Good to see you, General.”

Nobody says anything more. Sephiroth finds a bottle of water and closes his eyes. He soaks in the quiet. Maybe it won’t come back. Maybe whatever happened when he left Midgar fixed the problem for good. Maybe he’s built up a reservoir of stillness that he can hold onto. He focuses inwardly so intently, so deeply, that he falls asleep on the way back.

* * *

“Yo, General!”

Someone is shaking his knee. 

It’s the humming noise that wakes him up. It almost itches. Like the buzzing of an insect. Or maybe it’s music he can’t quite hear. It’s not as unpleasant as he remembers, but it’s constant. Like a new, sixth sense that he just can’t turn off.

When he opens his eyes, the red-headed Turk is kneeling at his knee with a sly look on his face. 

“You ready for that blow…” The Turk is yanked backwards by the collar of his jacket into the cockpit before he can finish his question.

“Sorry, sir. He’s an idiot.” The quiet Turk looks at the general over his sunglasses. “But we’re both _extremely_ grateful that you were able to clear out that cache of monsters in Corel. Nasty business.”

Sephiroth blinks, then nods briefly and exits to the helipad. He’s distracted with this new piece of the puzzle. The problem is _Midgar._ Or something _in_ Midgar. This noise, the emotional surges appear to only happen here. They are related to his proximity to _something_ or _someone._ Could it be a mako allergy? Some strange narrow-range magic? Something Hojo has hidden in the labs?

Relieved that the problem doesn’t just lie within his own body--it’s at least not an artifact of a broken or sick mind, he resolves to give the problem more consideration before involving Hojo.

It’s early enough that he heads straight to Lazard’s office. Better to get the story out of the way immediately. He lies plainly and without embellishment. Lots of monsters. Very big. He could hear and smell them immediately upon landing. No. No more follow-up is needed.

He hopes the Turks will follow through with their promised backup. 

Returning to his apartment, Sephiroth plans to spend the evening reading on his couch. Although Hojo finds it unbecoming, Sephiorth has a penchant for reading fiction. Angeal said that it might help him understand what people are actually like when they’re not intimidated by his presence. Eventually, he just got addicted to the stories… it’s a nice change from his boring life.

It’s then that he feels that familiar surge, more obvious than ever, now that he’s had a break from the emotional swings. At least it’s a good one. He feels amused and cared for. Important to someone. It’s such a sweet and earnest emotion that Sephiroth closes his book and lays back on the couch to relish it for a moment. It’s quite different than the peaceful, meditative solitude he enjoyed in Corel, but it feels as delicious and indulgent as dessert.

He falls asleep unusually relaxed.

* * *

That night, on his couch, Sephiroth dreams vividly.

He’s trying to find someone. Or perhaps it’s the opposite… someone is looking for him. Either way they are very close and yet somehow hidden from him. A presence that’s stimulating and calming, familiar and strange, all at the same time. He can only see brief glimpses, flashes of color, or the sensation of touch, before he’s alone in the dark again.

In his dream, he reaches out a hand and finds soft skin, almost as pale as his own, but freckled and warmer toned. It’s beautiful under his hand and he strains his eyes to see more, but everything else fades to black. He can see nothing but what he’s touching… bicep… forearm… a delicate hand. His fingertips trace down the palm and then the middle finger. And then gone. He hears a sigh that can’t be his own.

He reaches out again into darkness and this time finds something more solid. A hip that shifts under his hand. There’s a gasp, a turn, and then his hand is sliding around a narrow waist. He’s trying to pull that warm body closer to his own but all he can’t. It won’t shift. It feels like the harder he tries the more insubstantial the other person becomes until they disappear from under his palm and he feels painfully alone in the darkness.

Sephiroth reaches out again for contact. Sighs in relief to find those hips again. He realizes that if he can’t pull this person to him, the alternative is to move himself closer. He feels an intense need to be closer. To see and know and be seen and known by whoever this is. 

His body tries to find purchase in the empty darkness, but there is nothing to push against. He pours his awareness into his hands, the only point of contact with the other presence. He feels sharp hip bones. Runs his fingers across the dimples in their low back. Soft, panting breaths flutter across his chest, felt as much as heard. 

“Sephiroth…” his name comes through as the softest whisper on his skin. But it rings like a beacon, and suddenly he’s able to shift closer, as if the voice is providing a path. 

A lithe frame meets his own in a rush. In an instant. A single blink and and suddenly hips are pressed along his own, warm and flowing with energy. He is overwhelmed at the contact… each motion against his body lights up his nerves like he’s been set on fire. He’s floating in darkness, and most of his body has disappeared from his perception, but his cock is pressed against the smooth navel of someone who is writhing against him desperately.

“ _Please…”_ they beg, wrapping a leg around his thigh, rubbing against him. “ _Please… please…”_

He can feel the _want_ bleeding through his system like a drug. It feels just as good as the hands sliding up his chest. Some of this emotion is definitely not his own... he can sense awe and admiration, which are certainly not coming from him. But Sephiroth is not unmoved. He wants of his own accord. There’s something deeply appealing about the body pressed against his own. Sephiroth reaches with both hands to grab this ephemeral partner, ready to pull his companion right up onto his hips so that they can find more friction...

And then he’s sitting up on the couch, hands empty, gasping into the silence of his apartment. His cock is heavy and dripping in his sweatpants. He tries to hold on to the image and sensation of the dream, but it's already evaporating like mist. Confusion and embarrassment arrive in a rush. Not his own.

  
  


Sixty-plus stories below, Cloud Strife jolts awake, disoriented in his barracks bunk as a boot hits the wall behind him and tumbles into his bed.

“Shut _up_ , Strife! Sephiroth’s manly tits! Can you _please_ jerk off more quietly?”


	2. Chapter 2

Cadet Strife. Cloud supposes that this incarnation of himself is better than the version he left behind in Nibelheim. Enlisting with Shinra hasn’t exactly resulted in the transformation-into-hero his younger self might have imagined, but he can recognize that he has grown up a lot in his first few months in Midgar.

Not size-wise unfortunately. He’s still on the short side, although consistent workouts have given him a surprising amount of definition in just a few months. But he has his own job and money. His own schedule and responsibilities. He feels more independent and in control of his life than he ever did back at home. 

With one exception: his obsession with Sephiroth. Cloud hates to use this word, but he recognizes that his fixation might be extending into a zone that could only be reasonably termed unhealthy. Like most boys around his age he had grown up admiring the young general who was a singular war hero. Strong. Stoic. Undeniably attractive. There was nothing unusual about it, although Cloud wondered if perhaps not everyone went to sleep staring at their Sephiroth poster each night.

He had figured that when he got settled into life at Shinra he might even occasionally get to see the general himself. And that most likely, he’d realize that the Demon of Wutai was just a regular man and he’d give up his childish fascination and have a little bit more space in his head for more useful pursuits.

Unfortunately, the exact opposite had happened. The first time he saw Sephiroth he nearly pissed himself. 

He had been walking across the courtyard from the exchange to the infantry barracks, having just given his mom a call to tell her how he was settling in, and he saw Sephiroth walking between the buildings on the opposite side of the courtyard. Cloud can’t remember exactly what happened. He remembers the silver hair, the uniform, the graceful posture. He remembers feeling surprised that Sephiroth looked exactly, _exactly,_ like he did on his trading cards. And he remembers feeling drawn to the man like a meteor drawn in by a planet’s gravity. Like he would burn up in a flash of gold light if he ever got pulled too close.

He has no idea how long he stood there, stunned. Both hands gripping awkwardly at the metal railing of the stairs. By the time he blinks himself back to full consciousness Sephiroth is long gone.

 _Get it fucking together,_ is all he can tell himself.

////

Over the next several months, Cloud rarely has the opportunity to see Sephiroth, and he keeps telling himself that he needs to just get over this childish crush before he does something truly stupid in front of his squad and outs himself as the world’s most pathetic fanboy.

That plan doesn’t work at all. He fucks it up entirely the day he sees Sephiroth and Genesis duel. 

It’s not odd to be interested in watching the firsts. His entire class shoves in close to see the spar, faces nearly pressed to the glass. Cloud isn’t sure if he’s the only one subtly making sure his erection doesn’t rub up on any of the other cadets, but it’s unlikely. The fact that he’s attracted to men has become crystal clear since he’s been living with so many and in such close quarters. And it’s _Sephiroth._ The hair alone. Cloud’s not a hair guy and he would happily let Sephiroth choke him unconscious with that hair. And the height—he is _so big._ And the lips and the fact that he could kill the whole infantry corp without even breathing hard. The man just screams sex. 

And so Cloud is hard and trying not to pant too loudly as he watches the spar with, oh, say, fifteen other guys he has to share quarters with, plus their second-class instructor, Zack Fair, when something very unusual happens. Sephiroth is struck by Genesis. And Cloud--dumb, obsessed, out-of-his-league Cloud--lets out a high-pitched gasp and faints. No, let’s call it _swoons,_ because that’s worse. _Swoons_ like a storybook princess, straight back into his instructor’s arms. 

He isn’t out for long. Perhaps he isn’t even fully unconscious. But when he comes to, he is held by strong arms, pressed up against a chest that is absolutely _shaking_ with repressed laughter. Zack is biting his lips, trying so hard to keep it in, but when Cloud opens his sweet blue eyes and instantly turns red, Zack can’t hold back any more. He laughs so hard the hallway echoes with it. And he isn’t the only one.

Cloud gets enough shit that week he seriously considers just buying a train ticket and heading home. There are so many dramatic reenactments of Cadet Strife fainting over Sephiroth that he becomes semi-famous in the infantry. It is not a good thing and his spiky hair is, unfortunately, very recognizable. Cloud grits his teeth and ignores it for as long as he can. Eventually someone has the brilliant idea to actually catch him up in their arms like Zack Fair (after all, he is small enough for almost anyone in the infantry to carry) and he gets so pissed off he breaks their nose with his elbow.

That’s how he ends up reporting to SOLDIER Fair’s personal apartment at 6pm on a Friday. It’s an unusual setup. Cloud doesn’t get in trouble much, but he is quite clear that punishments are usually meted out at the track or in the kitchen and not in the SOLDIERs’ apartments. But he had received a personal note from Zack, scrawled on the back of what looked like a takeout menu, to report here at 6pm, and cadets certainly don’t argue. Maybe he is going to be cleaning the bathroom or something.

He knocks on the door firmly and is surprised when it opens instantly and his instructor, dressed in a tee-shirt and sweats, ushers him into the apartment.

“Cloud! C’mon in. I got pizza.” He’s casual and welcoming and not very officer-like. The whole thing is confusing. Cloud walks in tentatively and looks at Zack with confusion. He gets a big grin back. Zack actually looks... like he is trying not to laugh.

And eventually he fails. Cloud is just so cute and wide-eyed, and it brings Zack back instantly to the Sephiroth incident—which any reasonable person would find hilarious. Cloud’s face darkens considerably at Zack’s outburst.

“Oh shit,” he says, still chuckling. “I’m so sorry,” Zack tries valiantly to get it under control, ribs still twitching. “Really Cloud. Really sorry.” He gestures to his living room where pizza and soda and game controllers are sitting out on his coffee table.

“Look, see? This is your punishment. Pizza and games and you get to hang out with me, second class SOLDIER Zack Fair!”

Cloud gives him a skeptical look that seems to indicate that maybe he’d rather peel potatoes or clean his bathroom. After all, Zack’s hysteria at his little fainting incident was part of what made the story spread like wildfire.

“C’mon.” Zack gets serious. “I’m gonna make it up to you.” He drags Cloud over to his couch and practically forces him to sit. “Let’s talk.”

Cloud sits quietly with his eyebrows raised. The “so talk,” goes unsaid. 

Zack clears his throat and shoves a piece of pizza into his hand. “Eat up.” Cloud takes a tiny bite at the order. “So look, Cloud, can I give you some friendly advice?”

“Certainly, sir.”

“Ugh. Not sir. Not as an officer, just as a friend.”

Cloud gives him a skeptical shrug. “Okay...”

“You gotta just roll with this thing. Your life is gonna be so much easier if you’re the one who’s laughing hardest at it.”

“I think it’s too late for that, sir.” Cloud grumps.

“Stop it. In my apartment call me Zack. And it’s not too late. Seriously. The next time you see Seph, I want you to shriek like a girl and jump into somebody’s arms. Put your hand to your forehead and fall to the floor. The next time somebody picks you up, moan _Sephiroth_ and lick their neck. I don’t know… be creative! But you have to own it. If you keep letting it piss you off you’re gonna break someone else’s nose and I’m gonna _have_ to make you run laps ‘til you puke.”

Cloud takes it in silently. It’s not terrible advice. 

“Besides,” Zack continues. “You really don’t need to be embarrassed. At least fifty percent of ShinRa is GFS.”

“GFS?” Cloud asks. 

“Gay-for-Seph. You know, selectively gay for the General. He’s just that hot.”

At this, Zack finally gets a genuine laugh from Cloud. The cadet’s shoulders relax a bit and he grins for the first time in days.

“That’s hilarious, but I don’t think I’m GFS, Zack. I think it’s more likely that I was SFT.” At Zack’s inquiring look he clarifies. “Straight-for-Tifa. Girl from my hometown. Huge tits.”

Zack laughs in return and claps his hand on Cloud’s shoulder. “It’s good to know yourself, Cloud. At least you’ll have a lot of opportunity in the infantry.”

Cloud shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Don’t be modest! Pretty boy like you? Just say the word and they’ll form a line.”

Cloud blushes. He really just wants Sephiroth but that’s such a stupid pipe dream. He looks up at Zack, feeling grateful and undeserving that he went out of his way like this. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Spike! Now that we’re best buds, let the punishment commence! Chocobo Racer XXI? Something else? I’ve got a lot of games.”

Cloud plows through his pizza while he looks through the selection. “We could do Chocobo Racer… but I’ll kick your ass into next week.”  
  
“Ooh bring it, Cloud. I like the sass but I will fuck you up. This is punishment, after all.”

////

Zack is right, of course. Cloud isn’t funny, and he isn’t a good sport, but he can occasionally recognize wisdom when it goes out of its way to feed him pizza.

The next time someone “faints” comedically in his presence, he marches over and tells them, “You’re doing it wrong.” Then he gives a demonstration of a true Cloud Strife™ swoon, falling backwards into the arms of a big brunette who has always been nice to him and he feels certain will catch him. Then he makes the first actor try it again, and finally tells them, with the scathing tone of a very put-out theater director: “You’re shit at this. Are you even trying? Maybe you’re too tall.” He delivers the whole performance so serious and deadpan that the barracks are absolutely howling by the end. 

Cloud gets repeated performance requests on and off for another week, before things finally settle down and his Sephiroth infatuation becomes merely a quirky attribute, rather than a painful sore spot. He’s still famous in the infantry, but he’s found a way to live with it.

Two surprisingly good things come out of the regrettable incident. The first thing is this: Once the whole infantry knows you’re gay-for-Seph, it’s quite easy for any interested parties to make the jump to…. you might _just be gay._ Cloud finds that there are quite a lot of men who like men in the infantry, and that many of them like _him_ specifically. The brunette who caught him so handily during his first reenactment is the first to approach him, rather sweetly actually, and Cloud has the opportunity to confirm that, well, he likes dick.

Obviously the dick he really wants belongs to Sephiroth. Sleeping around a bit doesn’t temper his obsession in the slightest. The thing he has for Sephiroth isn’t really even entirely sexual. He wants to know _everything_ about the man from what he eats for breakfast to how he feels about the conclusion of the Wutai war. But Cloud is humble enough to admit that he’s just a cadet fanboying the most famous man on Gaia and that he’d be infinitely smarter to focus on the dick in front of his face instead of the one tucked away in Sephiroth’s tight leather pants. 

The second good thing that comes out of the incident is his friendship with Zack Fair. He wouldn’t have thought that a true friendship would result after his evening of “punishment” playing video games in Zack’s apartment. He walked back to the barracks that night relaxed and happy after trading wins and trash talk until nearly midnight. It was probably his best evening since arriving in Midgar. But he didn’t expect more.

However, very surprisingly, Zack invites him over for pizza the next Wednesday. Cloud had never stopped to consider it, but Zack is in a bit of an awkward spot, socially. Of course, he far outranks anyone in the infantry. Among SOLDIERs, he is the youngest by far, but also a rising star. He is treated with respect by everyone, but he doesn't really have any true peers. He likes hanging out with Cloud, and that is cause enough for him to start inviting him over on random weeknights to play video games. 

As different as they are, they get along like a house on fire. Zack’s constant energy, enthusiasm, and affection are somehow perfectly balanced by Cloud’s calm presence, reserve, and dry sense of humor. It also doesn't hurt that Zack occasionally feeds Cloud snippets of information about Sephiroth that he drinks up like a parched man in search of water. Zack can tell that Cloud isn't over his crush, but tries not to tease him about it too much.

With a few months under his belt in Midgar, it feels, for once, like Cloud's life is actually going okay. He has friends and a few, casual, more-than-friends in the infantry. He has Zack in his corner and a place to escape when the barracks get tiresome. And he isn't doing badly in his classes either. His size is the biggest challenge, but when it comes to fighting and shooting, he has some natural skill. 

The Sephiroth thing, however, is growing like an infection. Occasionally Cloud catches a glimpse of the General, doing something entirely normal, and gets faint and dizzy. He develops the habit of actually fleeing—trying to put physical distance between them until his head starts functioning again. 

He also starts having dreams. Intensely realistic, intensely sexual dreams about Sephiroth. He somehow can’t ever see the man’s face, but he can feel the long hair soft against his side when he’s pushed down to his hands and knees. The large, strong hands holding his wrists to the floor. He can sense the tall body towering over him, his mouth barely reaching the neck he wants to kiss. And that dick. Shiva. Dream Seph is hung like a horse. Cloud can’t remember the details, but he remembers that much. And he frequently wakes up with a real mess to deal with. 

In many circumstances, the dreams would be a blessing. Who doesn’t want to have incredible sex dreams about their dreamy crush? But Cloud sleeps in the barracks. In a room with nineteen other men. And it is getting to be rather embarrassing. He’s already contending with his well-known thing for Sephiroth. The last thing he needs is to _also_ be known for is dirtying his sheets daily. 

On top of the sex dreams, he also is developing an extreme urge to just _go to_ Sephiroth. To find him and be near him. Which is absolutely idiotic because Cloud gets faint even seeing him across the courtyard. Sometimes Cloud gets a little thrill just going to Zack’s apartment, knowing that Sephiroth lives just one floor up.

None of his efforts to move on to more reasonable infatuations have worked in the slightest so Cloud comes up with a different strategy: he starts making deals with himself. He knows it’s stupid, but he’s in too deep to care any more. Cloud convinces himself that he might just be worthy of Sephiroth’s attention if he can rise through the ranks as a prodigy, just like Zack. He’ll join his buddy as one of the youngest promoted SOLDIERs ever. Demonstrate his worth and draw Sephiroth’s interest.

He starts investing himself deeply in his classes, his spars, his training. He barely has time for blow jobs because he’s spending so much time in the gym. He asks Zack to help him work out and spar on those rare weekend days that he isn’t in the slums with his girlfriend. 

Six months in, Cloud gets his first shot at the SOLDIER exam. He is the youngest and the smallest by far. There are only a few other cadets his age and none of them are even going up for the exam. But he doesn’t hesitate. It’s not just about becoming a SOLDIER to him. It’s become much, much more. It’s about proving he’s worthy of Sephiroth.

  
  


////

  
  


Several months into this thing, whatever it is, Sephiroth is still struggling. He's started spending more and more time alone in his apartment, where he can at least save himself some embarrassment. But his friends, all two of them, just keep reaching out. Asking him to spar. Asking him for meals. They care.

“I’m fine, Angeal,” Sephiroth says, sitting at the man’s bar while he prepares lunch for them both. 

“Sephiroth,” the big man reproaches, slicing vegetables with a long knife. “Something is going on. I feel like I’ve barely seen you in months.” He gives his friend a long look. His skin is as pale as ever, but with grayish undertones. “You look tired. Does this have to do with Hojo?”

“No, Angeal. Everything is fine. I’ve just…” he considers telling Angeal about the strange emotions. They have been friends for years and it’s not a matter of trust. It’s just too hard for Sephiroth to admit any weakness. “I’ve been sleeping poorly.”

“I think you’ve been avoiding us,” Angeal asserts with a shrewd look. “And it’s not like you have a huge social circle to fall back on. If you’re not seeing me and Genesis, then I know you’re not seeing anyone.”

Sephiroth tried to think of an excuse. He hates lying and so rarely cares enough to do so. “I’m just…”

The feeling hits him mid-sentence. Shock. Grief. Despair. It’s strong enough to physically hurt. His lungs can’t take in air. His shoulders slump. 

Angeal watches with concern and lays a hand on his arm. When Sephiroth finally raises his head, his eyes are dilated and pained. 

“I need to go,” he chokes out, using all his willpower to rise steadily to his feet. The emotion is growing uncontrollably. He needs to get back to his apartment. 

“Seph, don’t go.” Angeal’s hand is still gripping his arm. “Whatever is going on, let me help you.”

“You can’t,” he says firmly, pulling away and walking towards the door. “I'm sorry about lunch.”

And then he's out. Striding down the hallway towards the stairs. He's got to get to his quarters before he breaks down in tears publicly. He turns the last corner and stops in his tracks.

Hunched down in front of Zack Fair's door is a sobbing pile of blue and green. A uniformed cadet, small and shaking with his arms wrapped around his knees, face hidden, whole body rocking with sorrow. 

Sephiroth feels like he’s circling a maelstrom. Being sucked in. He takes two steps and the cadet looks up. Wide aquamarine eyes rimmed by long lashes. Pale freckled cheeks, pink from crying. Bow-shaped lips and golden blond hair. He is beautiful. No, not just beautiful, gorgeous. No, not just gorgeous, so unfathomably perfect that he probably doesn’t exist out of Sephiroth’s mind. He’s really losing it now.

When their eyes meet, the spark of recognition is undeniable. He knows this young man. He’s _dreamed_ about him. How did he ever forget that face? He can remember now, with perfect clarity, just how many times he’s seen those eyes close, those lips part in ecstasy as Sephiroth takes him.

It’s also crystal clear that he is the _source_ . The source of the emotions. The source of the dreams. The source of so many months of worry and upset and distraction. Beautiful or not, he is _dangerous._ Even now, Sephiroth can feel the emotions ramping up to fever pitch as the cadet stares at him gasping.

“Why are you doing this?” Sephiroth demands. “How are you doing this?”

Cloud looks horrified. He has absolutely no idea what Sephiroth is talking about, and being dressed down by the General—the man he wants so badly and knows now he will never _ever_ have—is crushing.

“I...I’m sorry, sir,” he whispers out in broken syllables. “I was looking for Zack.”

Sephiroth just shakes his head in anger, trying to clear it. He closes the gap in long strides and crouches down by the shrinking form. “You know what I mean!” he hisses. He reaches out to grab the cadet’s upper arm and shake him.

The instant his fingers touch skin, they both gasp. It feels like they’ve completed a circuit and an electric current is now humming through their veins. Sephiroth can feel the sorrow sharper than ever, laced with shame and pain. It no longer feels like his own, but it suddenly feels even more devastating, coming from the beautiful cadet. 

Cloud, for the first time, can acutely sense Sephiroth. Anger. Confusion. Maybe a bit of compassion and want. The intimacy is alarming—despite the fact that he has wanted nothing less since arriving in Midgar. Without conscious thought, he lifts his hand to touch the bare skin showing on Sephiroth’s chest.

They both black out.

  
  
  
  


Sephiroth wakes up leaning gracelessly against Zack Fair’s door. The blond cadet has fallen awkwardly across his lap. With extreme caution, Sephiroth reaches out a single finger and touches the back of a pale hand. It feels like his whole body is humming with resonance, but he’s not going to pass out.

Somewhat reassured, he loops an arm under the cadets shoulders so that he can sit up. The young man is still unconscious. Limp and unresponsive. Sephiroth traces his thumb over those beautiful lips. His freckled cheeks. He wants him. Has an urge to put the cadet in his bed, curl around him, and touch every part of him. _Taste_ every part of him. Know him completely. But he knows what needs to be done.

He stands and lifts the cadet into his arms easily. The contact is distractingly stimulating. There are a few SOLDIERs already on the elevator heading up when he gets on, but no one says a word to him after taking in the grim look on his face. He’s going to the labs.

////

Hojo is surprised to see his favorite specimen walk into the lab on his own. Even odder that he’s carrying someone.

“This isn’t the infirmary,” he says coldly, not bothering to pause in his work.

“No,” Sephiroth agrees. He’s trying very hard to act indifferent, but he knows that the cadet could wake up at any moment and he needs to be away before that happens. He can’t let Hojo see the effect that their contact has on him. “I have an interesting project for you,” he offers.

“Oh?” Hojo deigns to turn in his chair and look at them.

“There’s something... odd about this cadet.”

“And what is it? I don’t have all day.”

“I’d like you to find out,” Sephiroth says mildly.

Hojo stalks over to take a look. “He’s nobody. A nothing cadet. Too small to be useful to anyone.” He looks up at Sephiroth. “Why waste my time?”

Sephiroth’s eyes narrow. It does truly look like Hojo has never seen the cadet before. He wondered if it was possible that the scientist was behind this. Hojo keeps secrets all the time—mostly because he finds everyone else unworthy of his brilliance. But he isn't much of a liar. He doesn't care enough to hide the truth from his specimens.

“If you do it, I’ll give you a half day of my time here in the lab.” Sephiroth makes the offer grudgingly.

Hojo looks at him with surprise. It’s only gotten harder over the years to get Sephiroth’s time, and he has years of experiments he’d like to run.

“Fine.” Hojo waves vaguely towards an exam room. “Put him on the table and strap him down.”

 _Strap him down._ Sephiroth takes that in silently. 

“Well?” Hojo is already irritated by his inaction.

Without looking down at the body in his arms, Sephiroth heads into the bare, white room. He lays the cadet on the table and fastens the leather straps. Wrists. Feet. Shoulders. Hips.

He leaves without another word and goes directly to his office.

  
He feels like _shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut is coming.... and no torture, as an FYI.


	3. Chapter 3

Sitting in his desk chair, it’s all Sephiroth can do to stay upright. There’s not a word for how bad he feels. Sweating and faint. Stricken with shame. Cloud must be awake now. Sephiroth couldn’t possibly feel this awful on his own for doing what _he had to do._ The general is certain that he is unwillingly reflecting Cloud’s emotional state. The turmoil the cadet must be feeling upon waking up, restrained, in the cold, sterile lab.

And then he realizes how wrong he is. Because Sephiroth can sense the exact moment that Cloud wakes up. He knows the instant Cloud opens his eyes in the lab twenty floors above him. He feels panic. Flooding, consuming panic and confusion and betrayal.

Sephiroth thinks he’ll be sick. He grips his desk hard enough to make the bones in his hand grate against each other.

He breathes shallowly, trying to find a locus of control. The rapid-fire swings are nauseating—but worse is the fact that every sensation is terrible. Fear, and shame. Confusion and anger. He hasn’t felt this strongly, or this ill, since he was a child. The minutes tick by uncounted as he grits his teeth and tries to bear it. He’s no stranger to suffering.

Suddenly the office door swings open with a bang and Zack Fair rushes in, churning with his usual disorganized energy. Sephiroth jolts upright in his chair, trying to compose himself. Swallowing the bile that has been creeping into the back of his throat.

“Hey Seph, have you seen Cloud?”

“Do you know how to knock, _Puppy?”_ Sephiroth says scathingly.

“Oh uh.. Sorry Seph. I’m just worried about my little buddy. I think he’s probably had a really bad day. Didn’t make the cut for SOLDIER and… well… anyway. Kunsel said he saw you holding Cloud in an elevator? Is that right? Is he ok?”

 _Shit._ It appears that the pretty blond is attached to Zack. Zack’s been talking about his best friend, Cloud, for long enough now that even Sephiroth has heard the name. This is going to get complicated.

“Yes, that’s right,” Sephiroth says slowly, trying not to shudder through another wave of nausea.

Zack comes right up to his desk. “Well where is he? What happened?” The edge of worry in Zack’s voice makes Sephiroth feel worse.

“He’s in the lab.” Sephiroth says it as calmly as he can. As if it were as normal as saying _he’s in the cafeteria._

Zack’s voice gets low and serious. _“What?”_

“I took him to Hojo.” Sephiroth finds he doesn’t want to say this aloud, but hiding it would mean he’s ashamed and he doesn’t want to be ashamed.

 _“Why would you do that?”_ Zack is incredulous. Everybody hates the labs, but Sephiroth most of all. Any SOLDIER knows that Hojo is an inhuman sadist and that Sephiroth is his favorite toy. There is no reason on Gaia that Zack would ever purposely put someone in Hojo’s hands.

“I…” Sephiroth doesn’t know how to answer this question. He feels terrible down to the marrow of his bones. Cloud is in pain, afraid and betrayed. But what’s worse is the guilt twisting through his guts, and he knows that it’s his own. His stomach seizes and he leans over the arm of his chair and vomits into his desk trash can.

“What’s wrong with you?” Zack whispers, his concern is only growing.

He can’t hold the secret any longer. “It’s Cloud. Cloud is what’s wrong with me.” He vomits again.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Zack comes around the desk and helps ease Sephiroth back into his chair. He was too distracted to notice, but the general looks terrible. Gray and clammy. Sweat beading on his temples.

“Cloud is…” Sephiroth doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. “He’s a weapon. He must be.”

“Sephiroth,” Zack says slowly and carefully, like he’s speaking to a madman. “Cloud is a cadet from the boondocks. He’s my friend and other than his ridiculous crush on _you,_ there is nothing unusual about him.”

“But I can feel him. Right now. He’s affecting me—my emotions.” Sephiroth closes his eyes in misery. “It’s been happening for months.”

Zack narrows his eyes. “You can feel what he feels?”

“Yes,” Sephiroth whispers.

“Do you dream about him?”

Green eyes snap open. Suspicious. “Yes. Why? What do you know?”

“Well,” Zack begins awkwardly, “My family always told stories about my great grandparents. Apparently they said they could feel each other’s emotions. Would dream about each other when they were apart. It’s actually a very romantic story.” Zack blushes. “In Gongoga they were known as soulmates.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Sephiroth snaps. “I don’t need legends and love stories. I’m the General of the Shinra Military. I cannot be distracted from my responsibilities because a _cadet_ had a bad day.” And then he throws up again.

“Maybe there’s a biological cause,” Zack offers defensively. “Brain waves or genetic patterns or something. I dunno. But if you’d like to stop throwing up, it seems like the obvious first step would be getting Cloud out of the lab.”

Sephiroth gives him a guarded look. Something within him desperately wants to make Cloud feel better. It’s as instinctive as breathing. But he’s afraid.

“Let me rephrase,” Zack says firmly. “We are getting Cloud out of the lab right now. I’m not going to let him suffer in Hojo’s hands because you are a scared piece of shit.” He stands. “I’ll go fuck up the lab myself if you won’t help me. But it will go better if you do.”

“Fine.” Sephiroth acquiesces with hidden relief. He’s been aching for two hours to get the cadet—Cloud—out of the labs. “You’ll have to help him. I can’t touch him. When I did, we both… fainted.”

Zack’s already moving towards the door. “Once everyone is safe, I have a funny story to tell you.”

“Zack,” Sephiroth grabs his arm. “We can’t let Hojo know. He can’t think Cloud is important. Especially to me.”

“Haven’t you already screwed that up?”  
  
“Maybe not. I didn’t tell him anything. I just asked him to examine Cloud.”

Zack nods. “Okay. Good, I guess. Let’s go get our boy.”

////

Acting with as much calm as he can command, Zack walks into the lab first. It’s empty and he begins looking around. Peering in windows and opening doors. Hiding his growing sense of panic.

“What do you think you are doing?” Hojo says coldly, entering from another room.

“I’m looking for a cadet. Blond hair. Small.” Zack pauses in his search.

“Why?” Hojo is as hostile and suspicious as ever.

Zack shrugs awkwardly. He’s a shitty actor, but Hojo is a shitty human so maybe he can’t tell. “Sephiroth told me to retrieve him. He’s coming to talk to you himself.”

Hojo gives him a long look with one eyebrow raised. Then he gestures to the door he just walked through. “Help yourself. But tell Sephiroth he’s not reneging on our deal.”

“I’m sure he won’t,” Zack says, already shouldering past him.

Hojo scoffs as he walks off. “Waste of time.”

Zack rushes to the pale form on the bed. Cloud is strapped down on the bed, shifting and writhing in pain. His teeth are clenched and his face is sweaty and blotchy. There’s a IV in his arm, connected to a bag of bright green, viscous fluid.

The first thing Zack does is rip the needle out of Cloud’s arm. The blue eyes open in shock at the sudden, sharp pain. He gasps but his eyes just roll closed again, still shuddering from the mako already in his veins.

“Zack?” He murmurs.

“Don’t worry, Spike. You’re done. We’re getting you out of here.” His hands work quickly to unbuckle all the leather straps. He scoops up Cloud in his arms and Cloud moans, dizzy at the sudden movement. He leans away from Zack and vomits at his feet. “We can kill Seph later,” Zack says.

Zack heads out of the exam room to find Sephiroth standing with his arms crossed. He glances at the Zack and Cloud indifferently before returning his gaze to Hojo.

“So what did you find out?”

“Don’t be an idiot. What could I find out in two hours?”

“What did you try?”

“I gave him a mako infusion of course. It brings out latent abilities. But I doubt he got a quarter of the dose since you and this _SOLDIER_ ,” he says it with scorn, “are here interrupting me.”  
  
Sephiroth humphs.

“Why even bother bringing him here?” Hojo asks crossly. “You know I have actual priorities to work on.”

“It’s nothing,” he lies. “Genesis thought there might be something unusual about the cadet. I doubted it. I’m sure you’d have found nothing and his commander wants him back.”

Hojo raises an eyebrow. “You’re acting very strange, boy. What is going on?”

Sephiroth does his very best not to look at the limp form in Zack’s arms. Cloud is trembling with his face turned into Zack’s neck. It’s clear he doesn’t want to meet Sephiroth’s gaze anyway. Even with his eyes closed, however, Sephiroth could pinpoint him in the room. He almost moves to take Cloud out of Zack’s arms before he gets control of himself.

He focuses on Hojo. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but perhaps you can find something out. You have me until 10pm.” It’s more time than he had promised Hojo. He wants to distract the man from Cloud.

“Acceptable. Go to your usual room and undress.”

Sephiroth walks off without looking back. Zack is already out the door with Cloud.

////

It’s a miserable night for everyone.

Cloud spends most of his time on the floor of Zack’s bathroom, sweating and throwing up green-tinted bile. Zack stays up caring for him, and wondering over the implications of his conversation with the General. Sephiroth suffers seven hours in the labs, of which it’s better not to say too much. He takes the scorn, the pain, the embarrassing probing with as much stoicism as he can muster. Today, more than ever, it feels like what he deserves.

He can’t help but cast his mind towards Cloud the whole time he’s there. At first it’s a relief. A slight refuge from what is happening to his body. He can sense that Cloud feels safe. Grateful to Zack for retrieving him. Miserably sick, but improving. The worst of the anguish stopped as soon as Zack spirited him away from the lab. As time goes on though, Sephiroth is able to read something else. It’s a low, simmering anger. One that he probably deserves.

For the first time it occurs to him that the connection probably goes both ways. He wonders if Cloud has been as confused as he has… and if Cloud can sense his emotions the same way. If Cloud can feel his guilt.

When Hojo finally releases him, he stumbles back to his apartment and falls into bed, relieved to see the end of such a confusing, unpleasant, and painful day. He does not dream.

////

For most of the night, Cloud isn’t really coherent enough to talk. Around 3am the vomiting slows enough that Zack risks giving him water and putting him to bed on the couch. To everyone’s relief, Cloud sleeps deeply until the morning.

When the sun comes up, Zack is happy to find Cloud still asleep, his color beginning to turn rosy again, instead of ash gray. He creeps back to his own bed silently, unwilling to risk waking Cloud by cooking breakfast or even showering. It’s nearly 10am when Zack hears stirring from the living room and comes in to find Cloud sitting up and looking at least half-human again.

The first thing he says to Zack, in a very small voice, is, “Did Sephiroth take me to the lab?” The question has been weighing on him through his periods of lucidity since yesterday afternoon.

Zack presses his lips together uncomfortably. He sits in front of Cloud. “Yeah, he did.”

 _“Why?”_ Cloud couldn’t keep the betrayal and hurt out of his voice.

“I think he was just… afraid. And stupid.”

“Afraid of me.” Cloud says, a bit of angry skepticism creeping into his voice. As if he could ever pose any risk to Sephiroth.

“Yeah. Well. I mean, did you know? About whatever is happening between the two of you?”

“Zack! I don’t know _now_ what is happening between the two of us. I mean, what the fuck is going on? All I know is that when Sephiroth touched me it was… different. Something happened.” Something that felt too personal for Cloud to describe it any more accurately. “And then I blacked out and woke up alone and restrained in some sort— “

He’s cut off when Zack’s phone buzzes next to him on the coffee table. They can both see who the message is from.

_Sephiroth: How is Cloud?_

Zack looks up at Cloud. He looks like shit, wrapped up in a dirty blanket and smelling like vomit and mako sweat. Zack holds his phone flat so Cloud can see.

_Zack: hes making it. he’ll be ok_

_Sephiroth: I need to talk to him. Send him up to my apartment._

Zack scoffs at the very idea. Like he would allow Cloud in this fragile state to be alone with Sephiroth… who has already proven himself unreliable.

_Zack: No can do. u can talk to him here. with me_

He knows he’s pushing it, speaking to the General this way. But then again, Zack has the advantage of being the best friend of Sephiroth’s possibly-soulmate. Seph has another thing coming if he doesn’t think that Zack Fair is gonna take care of Cloud.

Sephiroth doesn’t reply for a few beats. Zack is thinking about making coffee when the phone finally buzzes.

_Sephiroth: Fine. Now?_

Zack looks at Cloud with his eyebrows raised. He looks pathetic and pale. Like the very thought of talking to Sephiroth is going to make him vomit again.

Zack reaches out to squeeze his hand. “Don’t worry Spike.” He pats him on the hand. “We’ll sort this all out together. I know Seph seems like a big deal, but he’s still human and he’s got plenty of his own shit to deal with.”

Cloud pulls the blanket up over his head and flops down sideways on the couch with a groan.

“Fine. I gotta shower first.”

_Zack: Come in one hour._

////

The hour feels long to Sephiroth. He’s already showered and eaten. He already spent most of the morning waiting for that little shiver of sensation that let him know Cloud was awake. The longer he pays attention to the connection, the more he can sense from the beautiful cadet. He paces around his apartment with an odd mix of anticipation and dread as he thinks about going to see Cloud.

It feels like a date. It feels like an apology. It feels like he’s going to dress down a subordinate. What do you say to someone you’ve been dreaming about fucking for several months, but have barely spoken to otherwise? How is he supposed to act around someone who can _affect_ him like that. It’s clearly dangerous.

And why the fuck can’t he stop looking in the mirror and worrying about his clothes. He had originally dressed in his uniform like he did every day, but then felt like that was too intimidating and dug through his drawers until he found a pair of jeans and a black henley. That felt better but he’d probably change again if it weren’t time to go. It doesn’t occur to him until he’s leaving to wonder if some of the nervousness he’s feeling is from Cloud.

Zack takes a minute to answer his door. Sephiroth can hear the murmur of voices, soft and anxious.

“Hey,” Zack offers with a tight smile. “C’mon in.”

Cloud is sitting on the far side of the couch holding a cup of tea. He’s pale, but still beautiful, dressed in what are clearly Zack’s sweats from the way they dwarf him. Sephiroth can smell the remnants of mako and vomit in the apartment.

He walks to the living room and hovers awkwardly. The only place to sit is the couch but that seems… too close, despite the fact that his first instinct is to just draw Cloud onto his lap and smell his hair. Zack walks in holding a chair from the kitchen table and sets it down. Sephiroth sits gratefully while Zack plops down on the couch close enough to squeeze Cloud’s shoulder.

“So…” Zack starts, looking awkwardly between Sephiroth and Cloud, who have been staring at each other silently for a full minute. At the sound of his voice they both startle. “What the hell is going on, you two?”

Cloud looks down at his tea. Sephiroth just keeps staring at Cloud so intently that Zack isn’t sure his words are getting through. He feels like a mediator. Or perhaps, a nanny.

“Sephiroth,” he begins, “why don’t you tell Cloud what’s been happening from your end?”

The general seems to come out of his reverie at the sound of his name. He manages to catch enough of Zack’s words to understand the request. It’s just hard to focus with Cloud looking so pale and vulnerable. His own emotions are such a mess that he’s not sure he can accurately read anything from the cadet right now.

Sephiroth opens his mouth to speak. To give a report, actually. But what comes out is, “Have you eaten?”

Cloud gives him a surprised look, as if he’s not sure the question is really direct at him. “No, I’m not hungry.” His pretty blue eyes turn cool. _Because you dumped in the lab with a sadist, you asshole._

“Oatmeal.”

Zack and Cloud share a confused glance. “What?” Zack offers.

“Oatmeal is nutritious and easy on a sensitive stomach. It’s very good for mako toxicity. Maybe I should…” he looks over at Zack’s kitchen like he’s thinking of cooking some this minute.

“I’m _not_ hungry,” Cloud repeats firmly.

“Very well,” Sephiroth shrugs. He looks just as cool as Cloud, but he can barely sit still. He wants to _help_ and if he can’t just go and touch Cloud— which he recognizes is something that would be totally inappropriate right now— food seems like a good option.

“Let’s focus here, Seph,” Zack says after another ten seconds pass when no one says anything. “You can feel Cloud’s emotions, right?”

At this Cloud looks up at him with a mixture of embarrassment and curiosity. “I believe that I can.” Sephiroth feels like an idiot saying this out loud. Is such a thing really possible? Could he have just made it all up? “I felt it when he was... sad yesterday.” The word seems so inadequate for the heartache that drove him from Angeal’s apartment.

“It was such a strong emotion that I tried to return to my apartment, and that is when I found him outside your door. And when I saw him I knew somehow…” his eyes return back to Cloud’s. The cadet is gazing at him with a look akin to wonder. “And after I brought him...” Sephiroth cuts off. He doesn’t really want to finish that sentence.

But Cloud makes him. His voice is surprisingly steady. “And after you ditched me in the lab…?”

Sephiroth sighs. “I knew when you woke up. I could tell immediately.”

“Oh?” Cloud raises an eyebrow. His face is so perfectly expressive. Even his angry disdain is beautiful. “How did I feel then?”

Sephiroth meets his gaze steadily. He’s not used to being needled.

“Okay, okay,” Zack jumps in. “If it makes you feel better, Spike, Sephiroth spent the afternoon throwing up into his trash can.” Cloud looks away with a dignified stoicism that seems to indicate he doesn’t give a fuck how _Sephiroth_ felt yesterday afternoon. “How about you, Cloud? Can you feel what Sephiroth does?”

Cloud blinks at the question. “I uh… I don’t know. I haven’t noticed that.”

“How about an experiment?” Zack is already tired of talking, particularly since these two are so bad at it. “You stay here,” he tells Cloud. Then he grabs Sephiroth by the arm and drags him down the short hall in his apartment, into his bedroom, and then into his small bathroom, shutting all the doors between them and Cloud.

“What are we doing, Zack?” Sephiroth says, sounding irritated.

“An experiment. Duh. Close your eyes and think about Cloud.”

WIth a long-suffering sigh, Sephiroth indulges him.

Zack watches him quietly for five seconds, and then lifts his arm and slaps Sephiroth across the face, full strength.

It’s not surprising to Zack when he’s instantly pinned up against the wall by his neck. “What the _fuck_ , Zack?” Sephiroth spits out, fingers twitching with anger.

Zack pats his hand and looks apologetic until Sephiroth releases him, eyes still blazing.

“That’s the experiment. You think Cloud felt that?”

Sephiroth is about to snap back an answer, when they hear a small voice in Zack’s bedroom. “Zack? Are you ok?”

They open the door to Cloud standing just on the other side, looking worried. “I felt something,” he says, eyes wide. “Why are you so _angry?_ ” he asks Sephiroth.

“Success!” Zack crows, before Sephiroth can answer. He leads them back to the living room chattering. “See? It definitely goes both ways. It’s just that the General here is pretty much devoid of human emotion most of the time. So there’s just not a lot for you to feel.”

Zack isn’t phased in the slightest as the blond cadet and the silver-haired war hero gape at him. “Seph just doesn’t have a lot of emotional range, you know? So he’s dead air. And Cloud, being more normal, does. So Cloud just fills up all the emotional bandwidth.” Cloud is blushing at this point and Sephiroth, true to Zack’s assessment, looks stoic.

“Well that’s one question answered.” Zack sounds satisfied. “What about the dreams?”

Cloud’s mouth falls open. His face turns bright red as he looks from Zack to Sephiroth and back to Zack again. _“What?”_ he gasps out. Cloud hadn’t yet put it together that his dreams were a part of this and he is mortified.

It’s so cute that Sephiroth smiles. “We can talk about that later,” he tells Zack. But the quick, amused look he directs at Cloud— like he knows all of Cloud’s dirty secrets— is so sexy that Cloud nearly hyperventilates on the couch.

“Ah, okay,” Zack says delicately. “Well, should you try touching?”

Cloud looks like he’s going to keel over. He clutches his mug of tea like it’s a life preserver and leans over his knees with his head down.

“I mean, you both passed out, right? Shouldn’t we check in on that? See if you can manage it without falling over?”

Sephiroth nods. “It’s a good idea, Cloud.” It’s the first time he’s ever said the name, and Cloud has to close his eyes for a minute at the sound of it on Sephiroth’s lips.

“Okay,” he agrees quietly, willing himself to stay calm. He’s only wanted to touch Sephiroth since he was ten years old, but now it seems like a really bad idea. He feels certain that _he_ will pass out. Even if Sephiroth doesn’t.

Sephiroth comes to sit near Cloud on the couch, shifting his long hair over one shoulder to keep from sitting on it. The look he directs to Cloud, who seems frozen, is surprisingly gentle. Sephiroth takes the mug out of his hand and sets it on the table. Then, moving slowly as if he’s approaching a wild animal, Sephiroth lays his large hand palm up on the cushion between them and looks at Cloud expectantly.

Cloud sighs, resigned, and looks at Zack for reassurance. He is so grateful to have Zack’s support right now. This idea of trying to navigate this weirdness alone is so overwhelming, so anxiety-inducing, that he’d rather just return to Nibelheim. But there’s Zack, patiently waiting. Endlessly supportive. Giving him an encouraging smile.

So Cloud takes a deep breath, sure that he’s going to embarrass himself, and lays his hand gently on Sephiroth’s.

Sephiroth is trying not to show it, but he is so eager to touch Cloud again he almost just grabs his hand when Cloud hesitates so long. He closes his eyes in relief when Cloud finally shifts his arm closer. The touch of Cloud’s hand is so soft and light it almost tickles as his fingers nestle slightly into the spaces between Sephiroth’s.

That’s the first thing he notices. Simply that it feels good. Comforting. It’s a sort of touch Sephiroth has rarely, if ever, received in his life. 

The second thing he notices is that he feels oddly whole. He is reminded of soldiers who have lost limbs, describing the phantom sensations that itch or tingle or burn. This feels like the reverse. For months Sephiroth has felt that odd static in his head, and dealt with random sensations and feelings. But now it feels like his body is complete. Everything is connected as it should be. Working properly. When they are physically in contact, he can tell clearly what’s coming from Cloud. It’s separate from himself, but equally accessible, just as he can tell his right hand from his left.

The third thing he notices is that Cloud is incredibly... appealing. Sephiroth isn’t sure if another word could apply. He already knows that the blond is sexually attractive. Maybe that’s an understatement. It’s only Sephiroth’s impeccable self control that has kept his dick less than rock-hard just seeing Cloud. It’s hard to look at his long neck, at his slim hips, without thinking about a recent dream they had shared where Cloud rode him, seemingly forever, with his head tipped back to the black sky. But Cloud’s presence, which Sephiroth can feel intimately through their connection, is also very compelling.

Cloud is calm and measured, but what he does feel, he feels intensely. His anxiety and interest in Sephiroth are clear and endearing. And yet, there’s a certain hardness underneath. A feeling that he doesn’t expect others to think much of him, but he still knows his own worth, anyway. Cloud might revere Sephiroth, but he’s also open to the idea that Sephiroth could be an asshole and is already steeling himself for that disappointment. It’s a bit amusing to perceive such an honest assessment of himself, but it also prickles his pride a bit. Sephiroth is not accustomed to being found lacking.

And that’s when it occurs to Sephiroth that Cloud is doing the _same thing._ Cloud is sorting through his senses and emotions with the exact same ease and clarity. What might he perceive? What will Cloud learn about Sephiroth when he can dig through his thoughts like a pile of dirty laundry? He instantly feels vulnerable. Even more so than he felt in the battlefield in Wutai. Even more than in the labs. The idea of being seen so clearly, turned inside out, is painfully uncomfortable.

Zack has grown bored quite quickly. It was adorable, of course, the way the two of them sighed in relief and closed their eyes in unison, as if some great, deep-seated need had finally been met when their hands touched. And it was satisfying. Of all the people Zack knows who are in need of companionship—who need someone to care for them—Sephiroth and Cloud are at the top of his list. Both stubborn and difficult and quietly lonely.

But after a few minutes it’s too boring to sit there and watch this silent communion so Zack gets up and heads into the kitchen to start tidying up. And, maybe he'll cook oatmeal for Cloud after all. Kid needs to eat.

He pops his head back to check on them five minutes later and smiles to himself. Sephiroth has curled his fingers around Cloud’s hand and pulled it into his lap. His thumb slowly, softly, traces up and down the side of Cloud’s hand.

When Zack checks a little later, Cloud has curled towards Sephiroth, shifting his legs onto the couch beneath him, his head leaning against Sephiroth, cheek smushed up against the broad shoulder. They are so still and quiet it looks like they are sleeping, but he can hear how their breath is perfectly in sync. Calm and deep. Zack snaps a pic with his phone. He can’t help it when they’re so fucking cute.

When thirty minutes have passed Zack wonders if he should interrupt them. Or if he should leave. Or if perhaps this is intimate enough that he should have just sent them to Sephiroth’s apartment. But that’s when Sephiroth jerks back to reality with a gasp.

He looks startled to find Cloud nearly pulled into his lap, their hands intertwined and resting rather close to his half-hard cock. Emotions flash over Sephiroth’s face as he watches Cloud blink his eyes in confusion. It’s only because Zack is already watching that he catches the desire in Sephiroth’s eyes. It flashes by quickly—fading into what looks like regret and then his usual, impersonal mask. 

Sephiroth extricates himself from Cloud quickly, returning the cadet’s hand gently to his own knee. He scoots away as quickly as he can without letting Cloud topple over and rises off the couch to get more space.

“Wait!” Cloud snags Sephiroth’s wrist with a look of concern on his face. “What’s wrong? Why are you so afraid?”

Zack can read the tension in Sephiroth’s face before he smoothes it away and turns back to regard Cloud.

“Cloud, this isn’t a good idea. My responsibilities are too great for me to indulge in this further. And, frankly, it puts you at risk as well. You would be a vulnerability that I can’t accept.”

Cloud’s face hardens from shock to anger. “You’re lying.”

“I’ve said nothing untrue,” Sephiroth responds in an even tone. “You will recognize that if you take the time to think about it. I suspect the best thing for both of us would be if you simply return home.”

“Go home? _To_ _Nibeheim_ _?”_ Cloud gasps out.

“Yes. Neither of us felt anything strange before you arrived in Midgar. If you return home, things might return to normal.” This is one of the hardest things Sephiroth has ever needed to say, and it’s only a lifetime of practice that keeps his voice steady. He can feel exactly how his words are hurting Cloud.

Cloud just stares at him. He can’t believe this. He has some sort of _magical_ connection with the man he’s dreamed about for years. And Sephiroth still isn’t interested. What the ever loving fuck? Cloud could absolutely feel just how much Sephiroth wanted him when they were touching, the desire wrapping around him like blanket. Making him feel safe and aroused and beautiful. He had never felt so known or so wanted. And now, Sephiroth was peeling himself away like a bandage being pulled off of a wound.

Cloud stands. It’s very unsatisfying since Sephiroth is still a full head taller than he is. “What the hell is wrong with you?” He’s nearly yelling but Sephiroth doesn’t so much as flinch. Just considers him steadily with those mako-green eyes. Cloud can’t get a read on what he’s actually feeling, but he’s certain that Sephiroth is hiding something.

“Go fuck yourself,” he spits out. “I’m not going anywhere. But I’ll try not to _burden_ you with my presence or emotions.” He shoves past Sephiroth and heads into Zack’s bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

It’s silent in Zack’s living room. Sephiroth didn’t even turn his head to watch Cloud go.

“Boy, oh boy,” Zack looks at Sephiroth with a long-suffering eye roll. “You sure are committed to fucking this up, aren’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so the chapter count went up. I will smash these dolls together soon! PROMISE.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating has gone up. Now we're getting somewhere.

It has been just over a week since Sephiroth last saw Cloud. And, he realizes, essentially the same period of time since he _first_ saw Cloud. Two, brief interactions with the cadet, and he hasn’t been able to think straight since.

It’s absolutely infuriating. 

Despite Zack’s scathing dismissal, Sephiroth felt confident and resolved when he left Zack’s apartment. He was making a _responsible_ decision.

It would be too risky for Cloud to be involved with him. Hojo would certainly do worse than a mako drip if he had the slightest inkling that Cloud had some sort of _connection_ to Hojo’s favorite and most successful experiment. Not to mention the incredible amount of politicking and manipulation that happened among the ShinRa elite. Sephiroth was usually able to stay out of it, but only because he had nothing to hide and no tolerance for gossip. Cloud would be an immediate weak spot… and they would both suffer for it.

And finally, certainly not as significant, there’s the matter of his own…personal vulnerability. 

He realized, as he sat on Zack’s couch and stroked Cloud’s hand—the soft part between his thumb and index finger—that Cloud could hurt him. Truly hurt him. Worse than Hojo or friends or war. Cloud could disappoint him or… worse. Cloud could be disappointed _in him._ Could learn him completely and decide not to want him.

He’d already fucked up so majorly. Dumped a heartbroken, fragile cadet into the hands of the worst person in the company—and that was saying something, considering that ShinRa employed Heidegger, Scarlett, and the spawn himself, Rufus. 

No, it was cleaner—better—for Cloud to feel upset now and, hopefully, move on.

The problem is that Sephiroth isn't moving on at all. 

Each morning he wakes up feeling more and more strained. It feels like part of him is missing. He isn't actually sensing much from Cloud—maybe that is the problem. It seems that the cadet is holding to his word and keeping his emotions in check. Sephiroth has only gotten subtle flashes. 

Cloud was happy on Wednesday at lunch time. He was frustrated during the his sparring class on Friday morning. Most interesting, he was extremely aroused on Friday night. 

That one, Sephiroth felt intensely. It was after dinner and he was sitting on his couch with a book when pulse started racing. His first, worrying, instinct was that he was feeling fear—that Cloud was in danger. And then, the thought of Cloud made his cock jump.

The desire hit him like a train, filling his head with images. Stripping Cloud of his infantry uniform. Holding him down on the bed with one hand to watch him writhe while teasing his pretty cock. Flipping him onto his knees and spreading him open. Finally hearing what sweet sounds he makes. 

Sephiroth came in his pants before his fantasy even got to the good part. As he tipped his head against the back of his couch, coming down from the high, he thought of Cloud, somewhere in the same building, stroking himself and thinking of Sephiroth. The idea of sharing the moment, even in this strange way, was satisfying.

But, on the whole, Sephiroth actually doesn’t get much from Cloud. And that’s the problem. _That’s_ _the strain._ Something he has become accustomed to is missing. It’s like an addiction. 

He feels lonely. He feels depressed. He feels desperate. It’s a whole suite of emotions that Sephiroth does not usually permit himself to experience. 

And it’s getting worse. He’s still dreaming about Cloud, but the dreams are less vivid, less intense, and fade too quickly for him to recall. Every day that passes, he wakes up feeling like he’s wound a little tighter. And tighter. Until he he starts counting each hour of existence. He starts living until lunch. And then dinner. And then surviving the night to start it all over again.

Sephiroth has access to Cloud’s schedule. He could go and take the gorgeous cadet out of class _at any time._ And it takes all his resolve not to.

He tries, in a desperate move, to talk to Zack. But Zack has no patience for him. He laughs and says, _You better be prepared to get on your knees, General_. 

Sephiroth leaves without responding.

He walks all the way to Lazard’s door, thinking of demanding a mission away from Midgar, but the thought of stretching his connection Cloud even _further—_ of feeling _silence_ again—stills his hand on the knob. And that’s when he finally caves.

Returning to his office at a speed just shy of running, Sephiroth tries to figure out how to get Cloud to come to him. Summoning him directly will be disruptive and will alert his entire squad, and anyone else in the building who happens to be paying attention to gossip. There’s no good reason for Sephiroth to call a cadet to his office. 

So he calls Zack’s cell, in too much of a rush to even prepare his thoughts.

“Seph?” Zack sounds surprised to hear from him.

“Zack. I need you to get Cloud from rifle training on the fifth floor and bring him to my office.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t get him myself. It would garner too much attention.”

“I _know_ that. Why do you need Cloud?”

The silence lingers between them for too long. Sephiroth has no idea what to say. _Why do I need Cloud?_

“Please, Zack.” It comes out as a whisper. Far too pleading.

He hears Zack humph. Considering. “Are you going to upset him?”

“I… I hope not.”

“You gonna tell him to go back home?”

Sephiroth sighs at his own stupidity. “No.”

“Fine. I’ll get him. But if you act like an ass again… I swear to Odin I’ll…” he pauses like he’s brainstorming. “I’ll tell Scarlett and Heidegger you want to have a threesome with them.”

Sephiroth is stunned at the idea. “Very threatening, Zack. Can you go now?”

“I’m serious, Seph. And if they don’t bite, I’ll tell the Turks you need ShinRa-approved hookers but are too shy to ask.”

“Is that a thing?” Sephiroth asks curiously.

“Better yet, I’ll ask them to send Reno to service you.”

“Yes. Fine, Zack. Now please.”

“Yes sir,” Zack says sarcastically and hangs up.

////

Sephiroth can hear them quietly bickering long before they reach his office door.

“Spike, c’mon. I’ll just be, like, backup.”

“I’m not a child, Zack. I don’t need you to keep me safe.”

“But, what if…”

“No! Zack, just let me handle this ok?”

“Fine. But you have to promise to come by my office the minute you leave. You know I’m gonna worry.”

“Fine, mother hen.”

“Cluck, cluck little chocobo.”

“Fuck off,” Cloud whispers back, now quite close to the office. Sephiroth already feels better just having Cloud is closer proximity. Hearing his voice.

There’s a brief exchange with his secretary and then the door handle turns. Cloud walks in and Sephiroth is so relieved and overwhelmed at the sight of him he can hardly speak. Blue eyes. Blond hair. That small frame that would fit so perfectly on his desk.

“Cloud.” His voice sounds distant in his ears. It might be because he’s so heady from just the smell of of him. Sweat and gunpowder and cheap soap and fuck if Sephiroth doesn’t want to lick it off of him.

“General.”

Cloud walks up to his desk. Sephiroth had never realized how sexy the infantry uniform could be. He stares for probably too long.

“What am I doing here?” Cloud asks, sounding tired.

Sephiroth isn’t sure what to say. Instead he holds out his hand, palm up. Surely Cloud must be craving the connection as much as he is. The desire has only grown greater now that Cloud and his sweet little ass are here in his presence. Sephiroth is itching like a junkie to touch him.

But Cloud looks at his hand. His own hands are still at his sides. “Why?”

“Don’t you want it?” Sephiroth says, finally finding his voice. “I can hear how fast your heart is beating. Your cheeks are flushed.” And gorgeous. “I could feel your desire last Friday and I can feel it now.” He looks expectantly at Cloud. “Come, Cloud. Don’t play coy.”

Sephiroth is quite used to being wanted. He has heard more than he’d like about his desirability. ShinRa’s been playing up that angle since he hit puberty. Won’t even let him cut his goddamn hair. And the letters he gets from fans are pornographic. But it is particularly gratifying how much desire he can feel at this moment. 

Cloud narrows his eyes. “Fine.” He peels off a glove and reaches his hand out. But instead of laying his hand in Sephiroth’s he grabs his wrist.

The confusing haze of emotions clears immediately. And Sephiroth realizes that the only emotion coming from Cloud is a cold anger. All of the lust, the want, the longing… those things are coming from him alone. His own emotions are so strong he couldn’t even pick up on Cloud’s cool indifference. A pink flush creeps up his cheeks as Cloud drops his wrist.

Cloud is watching him carefully. “It’s _you_ who wants _me_ , Sir,” he says plainly. And then he adds, “I had a date last Friday,” just to really rub it in.

“Of course you did,” Sephiroth says slowly. Cloud is gorgeous. He looks like he was designed just for the purpose of being fucked. Cadet or not, SOLDIER recruit or not, there would be plenty of people eager for his attention. 

This is humiliating. The silver general was sitting at home jerking off to thoughts of a cadet, who was out fucking someone else.

Sephiroth has never in his life felt so pathetic. It’s time to either cut his losses or rally. And Sephiroth is not accustomed to losing.

“What about me?” he asks.

Blond eyebrows raise. “What about you?”

“Would you date me?”

Sephiroth can feel the warm hum of surprise from Cloud. He’s flattered. And maybe interested.

“I try not to date assholes,” Cloud says.

Sephiroth comes around the desk, feeling like an idiot that he let a symbol of his rank sit between them. He comes close enough that Cloud has to tilt his head up to meet his gaze. 

“I’m trying to reform,” Sephiroth offers, getting a skeptical look in response. “Can I… show you?” He reaches out slowly for Cloud. Slow enough to give the cadet plenty of time to protest. But he doesn’t. Cloud lets Sephiroth’s hand come right up to his face, and then gently caresses his cheek.

The touch is… well, it’s not electric. It’s far more soothing than that. Like reaching into a warm bath. Sephiroth can’t imagine how Cloud could want anything else when this innocent, skin-on-skin connection feels so fucking good. Cloud closes his eyes and tips his head into Sephiroth’s hand. It almost looks involuntary.

Sephiroth doesn’t really know how to do this. He can’t communicate this way. Not purposefully. All he can do is try to relax and allow Cloud to rifle through his emotional luggage. He can’t help but feel anxious at being so exposed.

But Cloud is gentle with him. Not gleeful or greedy or callous as he sorts through the mess is in Sephiroth’s head. His presence is calming. Sephiroth doesn’t try to do anything, but stay still and hope that Cloud can read his remorse.

It’s not quite as consuming as the first few times they’ve done this. It feels like they’re getting used to it, in a way. Sephiroth has enough presence of mind to drop his hand before it gets awkward.

Cloud looks him over. “I hope you know that’s not actually an apology.”

It’s a surprise to be called out so directly, and Sephiroth has to control his inclination to snap back. “Of course,” he says evenly. Although he certainly was hoping that showing his remorse would be sufficient.

“Are you capable of apologies?” Cloud asks skeptically.

“I am,” Sephiroth grates out, trying hard not to be irritable.

They look at each other for a minute. _Fuck. He wants me to do it_ now.

“Cloud, I…” Sephiroth begins, but Cloud cuts him off.

“Fine. When do you want to go out? I’ll give you more time to think about how you’d like to make it up to me.”

He’s so mouthy Sephiroth almost laughs at the novelty. A cadet who speaks with as much sass as Genesis. 

“Tomorrow?”

“So soon?”

“Are you busy?” Sephiroth asks, a bit exasperated.

“No,” Cloud says archly. “I just hope that gives you enough time to prepare.”

“I’ll manage. Seven o’clock at my apartment?”

“Your apartment? Isn’t that a little forward for a first date?”

Sephiroth smiles without humor. “It’s not if you would like to avoid being featured in the Silver Elite newsletter.”

“Ah. Okay. I’ll… see you then, sir.” He turns to leave, giving Sephiroth a perfect view of his cute ass.

“Cloud…”

“Hmm?” He turns back.

“Perhaps you could call me ‘Sephiroth’ tomorrow.”

“Maybe,” he says with a playful shrug. And then he slips out the door and is gone.

But Sephiroth thinks he can feel an echo of slightly giddy happiness from Cloud and feels very pleased. He grabs his phone off the desk and texts Zack.

_Sephiroth: I need your help._

_Zack: Tell me u didn’t make things worse_

_Sephiroth: What do people do on dates?_

_Zack: Uh lots of things. y r u asking?_

_Sephiroth: What would Cloud like to do on a date?_

_Zack: …_

_Zack: !!!_

_Zack: I’m coming to your office right now_

////

Cloud feels like a metronome ticking back and forth between nervousness and pride. How many people get to date _fucking Sephiroth?_ The man whose good looks are surpassed only by his ability to kill things. The man whose thigh-high boots Cloud has wanted to lick for years.

And also, just possibly, a real dick who has already fucked up far beyond what Cloud would normally accept from a potential partner.

It was satisfying to feel the mess of emotion coming from the general since their appalling last meeting. Sephiroth deserved to feel like shit, and Cloud wasn’t about to feel bad that he did.

Not that Cloud felt great. He felt just shy of actually being stabbed with masamune after being told to _go home._ But he was also accustomed to feeling unworthy of Sephiroth. To turning off that part of his mind and trying to focus elsewhere. So that’s what he did, the same as he had since he got to Midgar in the first place. He’d lived through unrequited longing plenty already and he could survive more.

But now this. A date. With the… Cloud has to stop this train of though before he starts hyperventilating again.

And still Cloud wonders if he should have demanded more penance before even agreeing to this date. But there’s the whole, weird “soulmate” thing to contend with. It’s a stupid word, but an odd, complicating factor. Does one make exceptions for bad behavior if there’s a mysterious connection? Or maybe that makes it worse. After all, shouldn’t your _soulmate_ be the person you can count on to care for you and _not_ dump your unconscious body in the labs?

Cloud cannot figure out how he’s supposed to feel or act on this date. He decides on “bitchy” because the stress of worrying about it has already made him irritable.

He wants it to be a _hot_ bitch, however. So he prepares himself carefully. A blue shirt to match his eyes, unbuttoned to show off his collarbones. Sleeves rolled up. His tightest pair of jeans. He thinks about eyeliner but doesn’t want to draw too much attention to himself in the barracks. The idea of having a date with Sephiroth is anxiety-inducing enough on its own without having to report back on his success.

Besides, it’s pretty clear that Sephiroth cares about privacy and Cloud isn’t cruel enough to screw that up at the first opportunity.

Zack has to escort him up to Sephiroth’s floor. He smacks Cloud hard on the ass when the elevator doors open.

“Go get ‘em you sexy chocobo.”

Cloud yelps, glares, and backs off the elevator holding up both middle fingers.

Zack gives a thumbs up back and grins at him until the elevator doors close.

Squaring his shoulders, Cloud knocks at the only door in the hallway before he can start to feel nervous. He holds on to irritation as a more comfortable headspace. _Sephiroth_ should be nervous, he thinks to himself. He’s the one with a hole to dig out of.

The door opens immediately and Cloud has to tilt his head up to meet Sephiroth’s eyes. Realizes he’s staring after a few seconds. _Fuck. When is this going to stop feeling so weird?_

But then again, Sephiroth is staring too. He blinks and steps back. “Please come in, Cloud.”

The first thing Cloud notices is that the whole apartment smells delicious. Like garlic and tomato sauce and warm bread. The kitchen is on his left, clean and modern, but with a pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

“You cooked?”

“I like cooking,” Sephiroth says with a small smile. “There aren’t a lot of hobbies a person can do without leaving their apartment.”

“Ah.” Cloud hadn’t thought about how challenging it must be for Sephiroth to leave the building. “Who do you cook for?”

“Myself, mostly. Sometimes Angeal and Genesis. Now, you.”

Cloud gives a wry smile at being included on a list that begins with the three Firsts. “Is that why your hair is pulled back?” He’s never seen Sephiroth with his hair in a ponytail rather than flowing down his back and it’s kind of adorable. Especially the way it allows Cloud to see his ass in those jeans.

Sephiroth nods. “It’s a pain in the ass all the time. But especially when cooking.”

“I bet.” Cloud keeps his mouth shut about how pretty it is. “This is quite an apartment.”

Sephiroth has led him into the living room. It has floor to ceiling windows with views of Midgar. Not the most scenic vista on Gaia, but better than his bunk, which is actually underground.

They stand together for a minute, both quiet.

“Are you hungry? I made spaghetti.”

“That’s my favorite. Did you know?”

“Zack may have told me.”

“Well, you were smart enough to ask.” Cloud says it with the implication that this might have been one of the first smart things Sephiroth has ever done. “Yeah, let’s eat.”

Dinner is a quiet affair. But it’s not uncomfortable. Cloud tells Sephiroth about the food he ate growing up. Sephiroth tells Cloud about the time that he discovered that his hair can’t actually catch on fire.

Cloud actually laughs and Sephiroth startles at the happy sound. “At least you didn’t ruin the creme brulee.” Cloud catches a lock of the silver ponytail and looks at it carefully. It’s silky and fine, but surprisingly heavy. 

“How bizarre that it won’t burn,” he murmurs. “Must be a lot of weight. Doesn’t your neck get tired?” He looks up to find piercing green eyes on him. “Uhm,” he lets the hair slide out of his fingers. “Sorry.” 

“It’s ok.” Sephiroth’s eyes are still on his hands. “I do get headaches if I wear it up for too long.” He looks at Cloud’s empty plate. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes. It was delicious. What else can you cook?”

“I could cook you breakfast tomorrow.”

Cloud’s train of thought comes to a sudden halt. _What?_ Sephiroth is giving him a sideways look beneath long, silver lashes.

“Holy shit.” Cloud laughs, feeling on the verge of bewildered hysteria. “Is that a line?”

“I believe it’s called flirting.”

Cloud hides his face in his hands, unsure if he’s holding back a giggle or a sigh. “So there _is_ something the General can’t do.”

“At least it made you laugh.” Sephiroth clears the plates and takes them into the kitchen.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Cloud calls at his back. “I’m still kinda pissed at you.” _Maybe that’s an understatement._ Cloud wants to hold onto his anger for a while yet. But it is quite a distraction to see Sephiroth leaning back against the counter looking at him, shirt pulling against those broad shoulders.

“I’m sure you remember telling me to leave and go home?” Cloud is reminding himself as much as Sephiroth. He’s got plenty of reason to be angry.

“Yes. I remember. Will you join me in the living room?” Sephiroth waits patiently for Cloud to answer.

“Fine.”

They sit facing each other on the large leather couch. Cloud raising an eyebrow. Sephiroth looking distant and pensive.

“Cloud,” he begins. “I need to apologize. I’m… sorry for telling you to leave Midgar. And even more for taking you to the lab. It was a… reckless choice.”

Cloud looks thoughtful. “I could feel that you were afraid. But I still don’t understand why.”

At the mention of fear, Sephiroth looks uncomfortable. In fact, Cloud can feel his discomfort. “Well, the things I said were true. This… connection… between us does make you vulnerable.”

“I don’t think you’re afraid for me,” Cloud says in a cool voice. “What are you really afraid of?”

Sephiroth looks away in irritation. “I’ve apologized. Do we need to discuss every detail of my transgression?”

“Well if you want to make me feel better, yeah. An explanation would help.”

Sephiroth sighs. _“Perhaps,_ I feel some… apprehension… that you might not like me.”

Cloud gapes like a fish. “What?”

“I’m actually… very boring.”

“You.” It’s not a question. More like a statement of disbelief.

“Yes. I mean, I grew up in the tower and I have barely left it other than going to war. And my social skills are… somewhat lacking. And I’m not really even human.” He gestures to his hair. His eyes. “I wouldn’t have thought this sort of thing would even be possible for me.”

Clouds eyes are soft in a way that makes Sephiroth feel very uncomfortable. “But you’re… fascinating. And definitely human.”

“Yes well,” Sephiroth shrugs. “It’s easy to want a fantasy. The picture on the trading cards with the fun fact that my hair smells like lavender or whatever else the PR department decides is good publicity.” 

Cloud blushes. He had that trading card.

“It’s harder to want someone who is so fucked up that they would take someone… they desired … to Hojo.”

Cloud thinks about this while Sephiroth sits still and awkward. He decides to be charmed.

And bold. Why the fuck not? They’re on a goddamn date after all. He crawls forward and slides onto Sephiroth’s lap, straddling his hips. 

“I still want you,” he says, smoothing his hands on Sephiroth’s shoulders, which feel as hard as marble underneath his dark gray shirt. 

Sephiroth’s hands clutch at his hips, so strong it makes him gasp. And then slowly, like he’s remembering to be gentle, they slide up over his stomach. Over his chest. Over his collarbone. Cloud can’t tear his eyes away until both large hands press against the sides of his jaw. 

Cloud had forgotten what the touch of Sephiroth’s skin did to him. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end. Their eyes meet and Cloud isn’t sure if he leans in to kiss Sephiroth or simply falls into his mouth. Either way, he is certain he’s never been so desired in his life.

He comes back to himself some time later. Hours might have passed. He’s being pressed hard into the couch by Sephiroth’s body and he has never been so happy to barely be able to breath. Between the weight of that huge torso and the tongue in his mouth, it’s the most pleasant sort of asphyxiation. 

Sephiroth’s long ponytail is wrapped round and round Cloud’s forearm, with his hand holding on at the base because, apparently, Sephiroth likes to have his hair pulled. Sephiroth definitely has a hand on him somewhere, but hard to tell where because Cloud’s whole body is tingling. Especially his thigh. The one that can feel Sephiroth’s cock, long and thick and pressing hard enough that he thinks it might leave a bruise.

When his vision starts going dark, Cloud pulls harder. He can’t even budge Sephiroth’s head, so he just whispers against those perfect lips “I’ve gotta breathe.” 

Sephiroth doesn’t pause for moment, but obligingly shifts to kiss down his jaw and neck, undoing buttons as he goes. He pushes back Cloud’s collar to suck on the curve of his shoulder while Cloud draws in air like he’s drowning.

When he feels teeth, Cloud’s hands yank reflexively in silver hair. “Oh fuck yes,” he moans, even though Sephiroth can already sense how much he likes it. Buttons undone, Cloud arches upward as Sephiroth peels open his shirt, hand sliding up his chest to roll a nipple between two fingers.

It’s heaven. An intoxicating feedback loop where every pleasure is doubled through the echo they share.

With his mouth unoccupied, Cloud is making so much noise he feels grateful that there are no other apartments on this floor. 

“Oh fuck… oh my god… oh _fuck.”_ He can’t _shut up_ with Sephiroth’s teeth nipping along his skin. Cannot believe this is happening.

“Am I forgiven?” Sephiroth asks, shifting down to take Cloud’s nipple into his mouth. 

For a second, Cloud manages to put together enough brainpower to recall how shitty the past week was. “I think,” Cloud gasps out, “you… nnngh… need to do penance.”

Sephiroth lifts his head up. He’s panting too. “Zack told me I’d need to get on my knees.” He gives Cloud a smirk.

 _“What?”_ Cloud’s voice is incredulous. Yeah, his cock is so hard that he’s deeply regretting wearing his tightest jeans. But surely, the goddamn general of ShinRa is not about to…

Sephiroth slides off the couch onto his knees.

“Oh my god.” Cloud is gonna pass out.

“Take your pants off.” Sephiroth says with an urgency Cloud can feel in his gut. He manhandles Cloud to sit back against the couch. Sephiroth is so fucking tall they’re still eye to eye.

“Okay,” Cloud croaks out. He’s trying to get his belt off but his fingers aren’t cooperating.

Sephiroth watches for about three seconds before he loses patience. “Let me.” He knocks Cloud’s hands aside and pulls off his belt in such a hurry that it whips across the room and lands on the kitchen counter. The button and zipper are quickly undone and after a few ineffectual pushes from Cloud at the waistband, Sephiroth yanks him to his feet and pulls the jeans straight down to the floor, taking his briefs with them.

"Ohh _fuck,”_ Cloud cries as his cock springs upward, finally released from the painful confines of those pants. And then repeats it when Sephiroth immediately grabs onto his bare hips and take Cloud deep into his throat.

Cloud’s knees buckle and he nearly falls to the floor except that Sephiroth eases him back onto the couch, still sucking on his cock. Cloud’s eyes widen at the sight of all that silver hair spilling over his lap and then his head falls backwards as the feeling of Sephiroth’s warm, wet mouth fully registers in his brain.

“Oh shit… you… ohh…” his words only become more and more garbled. It takes two bobs of Sephiroth’s head before Cloud realizes he’s going to come. Immediately. He tries to offer a warning but all he can manage is to plunge both hands into all that hair and moan _Sephiroth_ before he’s coming so hard Sephiroth has to hold his hips down to avoid getting fucked violently in the throat.

Cloud comes so hard his throat hurts from groaning. Muscles all over his body will be sore tomorrow. It feels like a seizure and it just keeps going. 

Things fade to black and stay that way for a long time. It takes some real willpower to get his eyes open again. Sephiroth is panting just as hard, forehead pressed to Cloud’s hip bone, arms wrapped around his waist. His hair is a mess. Cloud hopes he didn’t just get cum in it.

Sephiroth looks up at him and blows out a long breath. “So that’s what it takes to get you to say my name.” His smile is sweet and teasing. Cloud can’t help but smile back.

And blush. “Sorry about that. I’m not, uh, usually quite that fast.” Suddenly he feels a little ridiculous. His shirt is unbuttoned and his pants are gone entirely. He came in less than thirty seconds. And Sephiroth is still completely dressed.

Sephiroth can feel it. He sits back on his heels and pulls Cloud straight off the couch onto his lap. Then kisses him deeply, affectionately, until he relaxes.

Eventually Cloud pushes him back. “Let me do you.”

“There’s no need, Cloud.”

“C’mon, I want to.” Cloud leans forward and kisses along Sephiroth’s jaw towards his ear, still marveling at the fact that he gets to put his mouth on that pale, perfect skin.

Sephiroth sighs, tilting his head. Cloud is very good with his mouth. “You don’t need to, because I had an orgasm when you did.”

Cloud pulls back in surprise. Looks down at Sephiroth’s pants. “Really?”

“Yes.” Sephiroth looks a bit exasperated. “I need to clean up. This connection is going to make things… interesting.”

“I hope it was good for you,” Cloud laughs. “Because I swear it was like I fell into the lifestream.”

“Oh I know,” Sephiroth says. “I could feel some of that too. It was good.” He leaves it unsaid that some alternative scenarios might have been better than coming in his pants.

Cloud shifts in Sephiroth’s lap, disappointed that he can’t feel that hard length against him anymore. “Shit. I didn’t even get to see your cock.”

“I am also disappointed.” Sephiroth gives him a wicked smile. “Would you like me to give you another chance?”

“Yes.”

“Can you go again?”

“Yep.”

Sephiroth stands gracefully, lifting Cloud as if he were a child. “Can I take you to the bedroom?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [ twitter](https://twitter.com/LemonDropLan). I frequently post previews but I am NSFW.


End file.
